Shallow Life
by Ready Or Notxx
Summary: It's hard to feel alone when one man's trying to make you happy, an the other spies on you when you're doing nasty things to yourself next to a park bench. YGO/Saw crossover. Adam/Ryou.  M for smut, laungauage, and masturbation.
1. With Or Without Him

This is a special birthing day gift for my wonderful oneesama, Tender Loving Care! TLC, you are an amazing friend, and you always have been with me through thick and thin within the five years I've known you. May we make it another five more with your shining presence in this world! Okay, everyone, this is a Yu-Gi-Oh/Saw crossover. Why? I love Adam and Lawrence, she loves Ryou and Bakura, and we love Adam/Ryou and Adam/Bakura. Even though this is more Adam/Ryou than anything, because it's so damn hard to write something serious with Bakura for me. XD How do you do it, TLC? Anyways, I'm taking a huge leap by doing this. (: Hope you enjoy.

Adam/Ryou—FeminineShipping.

Adam/Bakura—TortureShipping.

**Warning: **_If you do not find Adam masturbating drop-dead sexy, let's find what support group might be right for you._

**Shallow Life**

**1: With Or Without Him**

Lawrence was everything to Adam.

He was the only person who had ever actually meant something to the voyeur. He allowed the voyeur to cry. Allowed him to feel pleasure and pain. Allowed him to let go, to step into the trusting, supposedly caring arms of the famous doctor.

And that mistake is what has shattered Adam's life.

Because the loving and intimate doctor had promised to stay with the photographer forever. Had promised to cherish him every day and hold him close each night.

It hadn't worked.

A relationship cannot thrive, cannot survive if one of the partners injects drug after drug into their veins and expects to depend on said drugs for all the comfort in the world when the other partner cannot be present.

A relationship will not live if one of the partners spends all of his time at work because he's afraid that if he doesn't help someone, he'll become worthless, and he absolutely could not handle that sort of agony.

A relationship will not flourish if one of the partners is constantly neglected by the other, if he's not looked after and he starts looking to drugs and knives for the answers. If he can't find the strength to stop.

So when a relationship cannot flourish, it has to die, like a flower that's been watered far too little, like a prairie during a drought.

Why is it that Adam thinks of this sort of thing now? Why does he need to relish in… what almost was? What never could've been, because he and Lawrence were far too caught up in their own selfish dramas of despair to bother trying to take care of one another.

Adam sighs and presses a cigarette to his lips, taking a drag on the sweet cancer that helps keep him sane, and God, why isn't he in a mental hospital by now?

Well, it's because of the fact that on the outside, the photographer is a beautiful man. Yes, he's short and scrawny, when most modern women go for the big, beefy, sweaty, buff guys who don't give a shit about anything but letting the harem of ladies they're fucking trace their perspiring muscles. Whereas Adam is a skinny little bastard, but his appearance does make up for his lack of build.

With dark, messy hair and eyes that can never decide whether they want to be gray or green, Adam stands as an anorexic twenty-six-year-old, pale man with soft, smooth skin and a small hint of facial hair. The photographer is that perfect catch who looks as if he might hit on you as you were leaving a bar. He might even offer you a beer.

You would think he's a perfectly sane, happy human being at a first glance, because he's one of the "hot ones." The one that you would think would have everything together because he's so beautiful. But the more you stand around him…

The more you would realize that you're an absolutely horrid judge of character.

Because there's no one like Adam. No one who, just by standing still and smoking, radiates with such a cold and dark energy. You can walk into the same room, and without looking at him, see his anger and lust and pain and frustration.

That is the difference between Adam and the supposedly sane ones, the beautiful people.

Adam sits on an old, wooden bench in the park, his head against the back, his eyes shut. The moon overhead is the only source of natural light that illuminates his face; the fountain in the center of the park is the only other sound he hears other than the occasional whisper of the wind stirring his shadow-colored hair.

A year ago, exactly a year ago today, Lawrence walked out on the younger man, said they definitely had to work a lot of things out before they could ever be together again. Because they just wouldn't comprehend each other, because they were both too proud to do so. Their relationship shouldn't be so fucking one-sided all the time.

Shouldn't be so selfish.

And Adam did love Lawrence. Lawrence was his savior, his reason for not grabbing a pistol and firing away into his own brain. Lawrence was the first person who had ever meant something, instead of just being a black-and-white photo piled up in Adam's darkroom, then handed over forever to a client days later.

Adam did love Lawrence.

He loved his sea blue eyes, his dirty blonde hair that he kept so neat, opposite of Adam's unkempt strands. He was warm, protecting.

Sparkly, pristine in his perfect, tailored suit before Adam could manage to tear it off, to slide his hands up the respectable doctor's shirt before Lawrence pulls him into a severe kiss, then another, then another, then another until they can't tell whenever they break away or when they're back together again, they're just lost in it all, swapping saliva until the kisses become more urgent and hungry, and they fall on the bed together, or the couch, or wherever because they have to have sex _now, _no matter what…

Adam rolls his head to one side and then stands up, shaking his head as if to clear those thoughts away. Because he knows what happens the second he tries to deny those memories of Lawrence's mouth on his member, the thought of coming in the doctor's mouth, it disgusts him.

Shut up.

Somebody, anybody, shut it up.

Because Adam feels himself getting so hard over Lawrence again that his got to remove his jeans… No. You know what? No. Not here. He's in a public place. An old woman with her fru fru poodle could wander on by and spot him if he were to do anything again here.

Adam runs a hand through his hair, needing sweet oxygen because his breath has become so ragged. He just wants to think of cigarettes, of the life he hates, the shirt he's going to wear tomorrow, Lady Gaga shaking her hips while repeating Ale-Alejandro over and over again, anything other than the fucking cancer that he's thinking of right now. He wants to hate and forget all about Lawrence, blame him for everything because he was the best thing that ever happened…

Okay.

Adam's mind is inebriated.

His cock is throbbing, throbbing, and it's only going to get worse as time goes along. Yes, he has to come, but anywhere but here, not in a park again like other times before, but who gives a flying fuck, he's probably the only soul here at the darkest hour anyway, he has to jerk off now…

The voyeur crouches beside the bench, his eyes darting over his shoulder, just in case anyone's about to get a free show, and at the same time, his querulous, trembling fingers unzip and unbutton his pants, and they fall around his ankles.

And finally Adam can touch the hardened cock he's been longing for. It throbs in his hand, and he strokes it and strokes it and strokes it. God, he's such an idiot, using the cacoethes he has to jerk off as an excuse to think of Lawrence.

Adam starts to moan, softly at first, more timid, but becomes more confident and tilts his head back, starting to increase in volume, and he's glad no one's around right now, actually fucking joyful because he can jerk off here and not be fucking ashamed while he rubs himself to his climax.

Another whine, another moan, and yes, Adam's definitely going to hate himself for this tomorrow, because he knew he couldn't try to resist when it's futile, when he's a weak piece of shit who can't even hold himself back from what he wants.

Oh, he's so close now, he can feel it…

His eyes close and his jaws part in a cry as he comes, and he whimpers again, because it's just that fucking great, because who cares if succumbs to a little lust now and then? It's like a holy experience here, folks.

Adam wipes his sticky hand off in the grass, his body still seized by shakes as he finally recovers the strength to breathe. And when he stands, pulls his pants back up, when he starts heading home, he constantly has to catch himself because he's still trembling like the pathetic little bastard he is.

Good. Progress. Maybe masturbating at the park isn't so bad when you're alone, when you have no one around.

That's what Adam thinks. He thinks he did well, despite his excessive moaning.

But he's so wrong.

Adam was never alone. The entire time, he was being spied on. He wasn't discreet enough to get away with what he just did.

Somewhere else in the park, a taller, also slender male stands next to a tree, and even if Adam had seen him, it's so dark that he would've only seen this man's silhouette. A smile sneaks across his face, his tongue sliding across his lips after watching the little whore jerk off. He's never seen him jerk off before tonight, only seen him here constantly in his time being in America. This isn't the first time the silverette's spied on Adam either.

And the simple thought amuses him.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Of course, Oneesama, this chapter was really more for MY entertainment… Don't worry, there's two other parts left, so there's plenty of time for Ryou and Bakura. And for those of you who don't watch Yu-Gi-Oh, it's really great. (: You should try it. Just so we're all clear, this isn't a long-term fic. Just a twoshot. Your reviews will make me a happy person. :D


	2. What He Always Wanted

This is what you've been waiting for, Oneesama! More Ryou and Bakura! Can I get a HELL YES! *break dances* Don't you love me? It's okay. I love me too. XD Anyways, please enjoy.

**Warning: **_Maybe I should just write this chapter without telling you what the warnings really are. Yeah. Look who's a BAMF now._

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**2: What He Always Wanted**

The silverette could easily be classified as far more clever than Adam Faulkner when it came to hunting people down and stalking them without their knowledge. Don't get me wrong—both have the extraordinary ability to vanish into even the smallest shadows, to watch through pale lighting as a predator over ignorant prey. Remaining undetected is their specialty in this life.

And the only thing that sets them apart is their personalities. Adam is the erratic, angry, miserable one, whereas Bakura is the one who can manage himself, the one who can keep collected when he's turned on or mesmerized, or at least for a longer period of time.

Like he was there the whole time while Adam was masturbating, and he could keep a straight face while it was happening, too. He occasionally snapped shots of Adam with his digital camera, and he didn't try to hold back the smirk that occurred when the supposed voyeur hadn't even noticed the recurring flashes, over and over again.

Bakura swings open the door to his hotel room, then pulls the small digital camera out of his pocket. Yes, he does enjoy the irony of becoming the stalker in this situation when he anticipates the quality of his photos.

Another albino silverette by the name of Ryou sits up in bed, rubbing fuzzy, sleep-deprived eyes. He stretches his arms and mouth in an enormous yawn as Bakura walks over to him, smiling with recognition at the slightly older man. "Hey, 'Kura," he greets Bakura, groggily yet eagerly. "That was really quick. He must've been really easy to find, or he wasn't at the park like you thought he'd be."

"Oh, he was there," chuckles Bakura, climbing up and sitting on the bed next to Ryou, pressing a button to turn on the small camera. "And I was able to get a few photos of him." He enjoys going to Adam's "hideout," discovering after only one day of being obsessed with him—now a few days later—that he ventured out into the park almost every day.

"'Kura, you know I don't like this. I realize you want to help him and all that, since he's miserable, but—WHOA!"

Bakura has loaded up his pictures of the photographer on the camera, and the one in the picture that has startled Ryou is the one of Adam with his head thrown back, his eyes closed, his lips stretched into a wonderful, pleasurable smile with a hand on his cock.

"Oh my!" Ryou gasps and presses his palm to his mouth, the color red swirling beneath his pale cheeks.

Bakura grins much wider now, nodding. God, if Ryou could've only been there to see Adam live and in action… That's a gift the silverette's been given. Whoever said curiosity killed the cat? "Yeah, he was much louder than I anticipated he would be. I could tell he was hesitant at first, but then…"

Ryou shakes his head, becoming prudish and covering the camera with one of his hands. "Like I was saying before, Bakura, you know this is wrong, following him around and taking pictures of him when he's most vulnerable."

"So fucking what? He does it to other people almost every night. You don't hear me complaining."

"That's because we don't have financial issues like he probably does. We barely have to work to get what we want. He does that in order to live. You do it for entertainment."

Rolling his eyes, Bakura folds his arm behind his head and sits the camera on the nightstand before laying back on a pillow. "When we saw him at the park on our first day here, you said he looked miserable. Like he looked lost." Bakura reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, tattered wallet. "His name is Adam Faulkner. He's twenty-six."

"You stole—"

"He also—" Bakura sits up and digs through the wallet, pulling out two items: A photo and a gold band. "—was married to some man once."

Ryou takes the ring and the photo and examines them, the picture being of Adam pulled into a kiss with a slightly more muscular, blonde man. Both their eyes are closed, as if they're so happy that the moment has become too beautiful for them to view.

And Ryou's lips can't help but curve up at the sight of seeing the petite Adam Faulkner so happy and in love once. What could've happened to tear apart a relationship that seems like it was so… alive? Wait, never mind. Maybe Ryou's just jumping to assumption, maybe they were never happy and they were standing on the edge of a cliff their entire time together. "This Adam guy seems okay," the small albino murmurs, flustered. "I mean… I like him. He's very… pretty."

"Then you should do your best to make him happy if you like him that much," says Bakura, rolling his head over to look at Ryou. "I mean, sometimes I would rather fuck the man tits off you than make you happy, but you know I still love you. I mean, you know I don't mind any particular three-way." He smirks again mischievously at Ryou's blush. "I mean, you can have your time with him, and I'll have mine, of course. Tomorrow, just go to his apartment. His address is in his wallet."

Ryou arches an eyebrow. "That's nice, 'Kura, but won't it seems strange if I go to his door and say, 'Hey, my name is Ryou. I know who you are because my boyfriend's been watching you at the par, and last night he caught you jerking off next to a bench. Oh, and he took pictures of you whilst you were masturbating. So hi. Hope we can be friends!'?"

"So go to his apartment and give his wallet back. Say you found it on him the day we first spotted him in the park. Then invite him out or something. I'll have my way with him later on."

Ryou decides it's wise to shut his eyes and exhale. "Okay. Yes, I'll do that then."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

His hand raps on the door three times. Ryou's hand and Adam's wallet are stuck together by sweaty nervousness. His other hand, that is.

It has to be several minutes before the door is actually open, and brown eyes meet a greenish gray gaze. A slight swallow is heard.

And suddenly, Ryou finds himself fact to face with Adam Faulkner, Adam who's just standing there in his blue-and-white striped boxers, Adam who leans against the door frame.

Somehow the thought of that picture, the thought of that pleasured smile on Adam's face doesn't do a thing to comfort Ryou. Now he's here, Adam's smile non-existent at this particular time. The two stare at each other for a tedious measure of time until Ryou can gather up the courage to extend his hand with the wallet. "You're Adam Faulkner, right?" he questions quickly.

Adam's eyes widen as he takes the deconstructed wallet, as if he's been so out of it that he'd never even realized he'd lost it. "Oh. Thanks."

"Yeah, I saw you in the park."

Ryou literally feels the older man's fingers stiffen on the tattered leather, and he instantly realizes what Adam will think. Adam will wonder if he means last night. "Two days ago, as a matter of fact," Ryou rushes, hoping he doesn't sound too obvious. "I was eating ice cream on a bench with my boyfriend."

The interest fades from Adam's eyes.

Right, he didn't seem to be the romantic type anyways. And after he's been divorced, the last thing he may want to hear about is someone else with a successful, current relationship. "I… I just…" stammers Ryou. "You looked so miserable, sitting there alone, so I… I wanted to ask you if you wanted to hang out, but I was nervous, so…"

And the petite voyeur doesn't respond for a few moments, just stares at the concrete surface of the ceiling. How DO you respond to something like that?

"Okay."

Ryou looks up at Adam, shocked by his quick, fain agreement. "I haven't anything better to do," sighs Adam, shrugging. "I'll be back." Closing the door, the dark-haired male disappears into his apartment for a few minutes.

When the short man returns, he's wearing a long-sleeved, dark brown T-shirt and a black flannel over-shirt. Ryou looks him down, not up and down since they're pretty much the same height. "You look good," says Ryou, staring at Adam's black, baggy jeans. _Oh, why did I say that? _He snaps his head up to look into the gray eyes, "Uh, I… I mean—"

Adam's pink lips curve up, and he laughs. Wow. That pleasured smile from the photo was the only smile from Adam Ryou had ever known before today. "I'm not gay," chuckles Adam, shutting the door behind him as he exits the nearly vacant apartment. "I mean, I do make a few exceptions, but overall I like boobs and vaginas, man."

Yet another blush sneaks its way on Ryou's face as Adam goes on, "Well, I mean, you could pass for a girl if you had some. Boobs, I mean." He gestures to Ryou's flat chest.

The blood beneath Ryou's skin boils like the highest setting on a stove, the temperature that makes your hand blister up as soon as you touch it. "No! No! I look like a guy! It's just the hair that makes me look feminine, isn't it?" Frantically, the albino pulls at his long, silver hair.

"Relax, man," Adam mutters, putting a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. "What's your name again?" he asks after blowing a puff of gray smoke out of his mouth.

"Ryou. Ryou Bakura." He discreetly watches the smoke escape Adam's lips. "My boyfriend is Mikazuki Bakura."

Adam begins to walk through the hallway, and arches an eyebrow as he looks over his shoulder at Ryou. "So…Your boyfriend has the same name as you? That's a scary coincidence."

Ryou follows, a short gap between the two feminine males as they walk. "Yeah. He's a good guy. Extremely impulsive and masochistic, but a good guy nonetheless."

"Is he albino too?"

"Yeah. Brown eyes, too, just like me."

"That's… fucking creepy." Adam takes a step down the stairs, glancing back at the small silverette. "You're Japanese, aren't you?"

Ryou nods, each step creaking beneath his shoes like arthritis. "Yeah, how could you tell?"

"Well, your name for starters. And your accent. I studied in Japan for a while when I was in college."

College? Adam doesn't seem like the type to even finish high school. A dropout who probably spends lots of time working at Burger King seems more fitting for him. Ryou doesn't question him, though, just remains silent as they make their way through the exit of the building. Finally, he speaks. "Where would you like to go?"

"A bar." Adam turns towards Ryou, smirking. "I would like to go to a bar."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He's not completely sure how, but Adam persuaded Ryou to have a drink with him. Now he sits next to Adam, three-fourths of a glass of wine in his hand, having lost count of how many beers Adam's had thus far. Now Adam's inspecting the yellow overhead lighting, his pupils dilated.

"You… You know what?" slurs the drunken voyeur. "It's like… every light has their own personality. Like women." Without warning, he bangs his fist on the table. "And men do too! What the… What the fuck is with the universe being so damn diverse, dude?"

Ryou doesn't hold back his laughter. "Adam, I think you're a little past drunk. We should get you home." Adam swings his head around and gives Ryou a sharp look.

"What? No, YOU'RE drunk! Stop being so fucking… fucking colorful man, you're like a God damn Rainbow Dash from My Little Pony!"

"Okay, okay. Come with me." Ryou pays for their alcohol expense and grabs Adam's wrist, rapidly leading him out of the semi-crowded bar. Adam, resisting, ends up following without a struggle, like it's an adventure they're going on, if only Ryou didn't have to carry him and he could walk on his own two feet.

Tasting the alcohol and bitter tobacco on Adam's breath, Ryou shudders slightly, sending a silent prayer that no one's around the sidewalk at this time, because this is… Downright embarrassing, especially when Adam gets confused and puts a hand on Ryou's ass, purring when the silverette tenses in contact. "Yeah, you like that, don't you," Adam murmurs into Ryou's ear.

Gah. Ryou, please just continue to be prudish. Please, at this time, just resume. Because he can tell that holding onto someone is making Adam really horny right now. The two girly males soon arrive back at Adam's tiny apartment, but Adam doesn't wait for them to make it all the way down the hall to the door before he shoves Ryou up against the wall and puts his hands on the younger boy's shoulders.

He puts one slim hand through Ryou's longer hair and rips him into a fierce, open-mouthed kiss, tongue included, before Ryou can even protest or object.

"Adam—"

But there's no time to speak, not when Adam just silences him with another kiss, obviously misled on what he wants in his intoxicated state. Either way, Ryou knows Adam's probably waited for this sort of thing, waited for another warm, naked body to be pressed against his. "Adam!" Ryou tries again, suspiring from lack of oxygen after Adam has finally pulled away.

"Just…" Adam stops for a moment, gray eyes gleaming and hopeful. "Please, just… Just let me try this…"

Ryou has always felt something for Adam, since he first saw the dark-haired photographer in the park that day. When he saw kids playing in front of the despondent man, bouncing a ball, he had seen his head handing. Seen his eyes filled with tears he was obviously too proud to let out, because the last thing you want to see when you want to end your life is people being happy and having fun.

And Ryou's heart…

Seeing Adam alone, Ryou's heart had sank, because seeing his beautiful face…

He knew he would do anything to make Adam happy.

So he doesn't protest when Adam slyly reaches up his shirt and feels across his chest, planting another sloppy, wet kiss across his collarbone. Doesn't reprimand Adam. Allows everything, because Ryou knew this was coming from the horny bastard. His thoughts are cut off when Adam starts pushing him into the apartment. The door slams shut behind him.

Everything Adam's been waiting for… Not just sex, but someone to hold. Someone to appreciate, be around. Ryou can't help but opening up to the flood of joy that warmly and generously overwhelms him about five minutes later, after a little more foreplay, when they're in Adam's small bed and Adam starts pushing into him, first slow.

Because after the first thrust, Ryou whimpers, and Adam has to falter, but that's okay, he continues, slow for a while, trying to get a feel for things because he's still unsure of everything, he's still insecure, but he does start to fuck harder, harder still and faster.

And Ryou moans, letting out the occasional cry, like when Adam bumps into his prostate and he has to throw his head back and wail, because what he wants is Adam right now, Adam's hands stroking the hard erection between his tingly thighs and raking his nails across his pale back.

Ryou wants Adam.

_Okay, Bakura. You were right. This…This was a very good idea after all._

He hopes there'll be more to this, not a one-night stand, but he's sure it won't be. Adam needs someone, and Ryou's willing to make him happy, to introduce him to Bakura and once things get going…

It'll be great.

Adam and Bakura…

They're Ryou's sins. And Ryou has never been so happy to be a sinner in his life.

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Hurrah! :D FeminineShipping. I know it probably seems really fast, but it's not a chapter fic, so that should be okay. :D Happy birthing day, Oneesama. Keep on truckin'.


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